


Astonishing

by Chuckabeth



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, POV Caleb Widogast, but ends happy!, caleb backstory, idk it's just my first fic and i'm nervous, lotsa that self-hatred struggle thing, mentions of other characters of course!!!, oh gosh what do i tag, short sweet to the point?, spoilers pretty much up to episode 77
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 20:08:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20972339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chuckabeth/pseuds/Chuckabeth
Summary: Caleb finally tells Jester he killed his parents. Her reaction is....





	Astonishing

"Caleb?" said Jester.

Caleb swallowed. He knew that tone in her voice. The sorrow, the kindness, the rare but genuine solemnity. It hurt like flame - warm and wonderful, far too close.

"Yes, Jester?"

He knew what she would ask, and yet there was no way to prepare. He'd done what he could, but Jester knew how to take down every barrier and shield. She made him laugh and smile when he'd prepared to never do so again. And after all that, didn't she deserve to know?

"When you..." She made a face. "When you kill something with fire, you sort of...

Caleb finished for her when she didn't continue. "I sort of fade out, _ja."_

It hadn't happened in a rather long time. He'd thought perhaps his mind had grown more resilient or desensitized, less and less willing to take punishment. _Disgusting. Infuriating._ He clung to his fire so fervently for a reason, _verdammt!_ What would remain of his humanity when that reminder no longer tortured him? After killing the faceless goblin in the Xhorhasian giants' residence and finding himself miraculously untransported, he knew his self-decency must have faded to its last dregs. And yet there his friends remained, his own dear little goblin stalwartly at his side. Surely, if he were to see her swallowed up in flame... _Surely_ it would hurt enough for him to lose his mind all over again.

The part of him that remembered himself before he was broken knew that to find this last episode as a comfort was perverse - deranged, even. The enemy's face had scalded and charred down to the skull with his fire, and to his abject relief Caleb's mind had the dear decency to scream itself hoarsely into smoke and static. He awoke in a dark place, a little disoriented for it but quickly recognizing all the trappings of a cave on his senses. They were hidden. Jester had pulled him through whatever chaos they'd survived and brought them somewhere safe for now. He could hear her, feel her, sitting right next to him. The dark was nearly total, but he was sure she could see him quite well.

"What makes you fade out? Are you... remembering something?"

"Ah, _ja."_ His voice trembled, and he closed his eyes as he sometimes did when overwhelmed, but there was nothing to block his eyes from and it didn't help. There was only this impending moment, solidifying between the two of them.

"...What--"

"I remember..." Breath escapes him for a moment and he finds it again. "I remember the worst thing I ever did."

He looks toward her, or at least the outline of her, the subtle shadows leaving him all to the imagination in her silence. He won't want to see her horror, anyway.

"As Scourgers," he continued, "as Vollstrecker, we were taught terrible things, Jester. We were taught... Empire over all, to sacrifice everything for the cause, to do anything necessary. I did some terrible things, Jester. Unforgiveable things."

"I don't know if it's _unforgiveable,"_ Jester declared, and Caleb knew the face she was pulling in the shadows. "You're really, really sorry, right? And you don't want to do those things again? And you've been getting so much better with people and you're really good at doing nice things for other people, and I'm really proud of you."

There it was, the little light Jester held showing itself again. This kind wasn't like flame, sweetly warm and ready to burn - but more like a star. A point of light, good and pure and strange to see, offered up with such good intentions that it almost seemed right to take.

_"If you need anyone to talk about it or anything, I'm here for you, okay?"_

_"(Okay.)"_

But this time he closed his eyes and dredged up the flame, smoke, and static, remembered killing spells and silencing blows on those who begged, remembered the brightness inside him that was all pride and righteous fire, remembered a youth stained--no, _dyed_ with blood and heedless sacrifice. The shame clouded up in his chest, heavily familiar and as correct as anything could be in this world.

So he told her of the holiday with his parents before finals and what he heard, felt her growing fear as he explained how his dearest friends helped him to light his parents' house on fire. He told her he knew what he was doing and how sure he was of what he was doing. He told her that was why he was so old and only now learning magic again - he was younger than her when he'd broken so badly his mind no longer belonged to him. He told her of the woman who gave his sanity back, of the planted memories. And he was so deeply engrossed in his own thoughts that he only barely registered that she was shaking. Crying.

"Jester?" Caleb whispered. The shame had begun to roil into the final circle of Hell he knew would come after this. Soon, he knew, it would consume him and he would no longer be able to speak at all. He heard her cry as she had when she'd scryed on Yasha and feared their friend had always been their enemy, breaking up what remained of his heart. "I never should have told you. I am so s--"

"I'm so sorry!" Jester cried, emotion bursting from her in a way he'd never heard from her before. He had known she kept a sadness in her, but this was hardly sensible.

"What - what are you sorry for? None of this is your fault, you - "

"But _Caleb,"_ Jester wept, taking his shaking hand in the soft coolness of her own, "It's _so much._ You loved your parents _so much."_

His throat was dry. "I did," he confirmed. "I do."

"I just want you to be happy, but maybe you never will? Maybe it's impossible. I don't know how to make you happy after all of that!"

And even as Caleb continued to cling to shame, gripping it in his chest like it was the very last thing of himself he had, that lovely starry light seemed to show itself again.

"Why would you want me happy?" Caleb wondered in bewilderment, and yet the very phrase was ludicrous in his own ears. "After all I have done - "

"Because I love you, Caleb!"

The stars burst out in glimmering, dizzying arrays, dancing and wonderful, blinding, **astonishing**.

He was utterly lost for words.

Jester's voice came out muffled behind her hands, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, that was stupid. Forget that. I mean - we _all_ love you. We all want to see you happy, Caleb. Whatever you did, you aren't that person anymore. You're _obviously_ so sorry for it, you know? Good people are sorry for the bad things they do. I just don't think... I wish you didn't have to be so sorry you're always miserable. Why is everything so _****ing_ miserable?"

Caleb continued to stare. He had nothing to say, nothing useful to think. Except for the thoughts of the Vollstrecker in the Dynasty prison and of his dear friends from Blumenthal and of Yasha and Fjord and Beau and Nott--

"Caleb?"

He wet his lips, blinking. "You love me?"

She hesitated before answering, "You love me back, right?" She shrugged her shoulders and briefly took on a more jaunty demeanor. "I mean, it's kind of obvious. I'm very lovable."

Caleb smiled. "You are that."

Jester squeezed his hand a little. "You, too. Which is why I'm so so _sad_ that you're sad. Everyone is so sad, and there's nothing I can do."

"Jester... If you can love me, you can do anything."

He felt her head turn, and he knew she was looking straight at him, knew she was analyzing every crevice of his face. "Even make you happy?"

Which is when the truth hit Caleb in the face. Nothing made him happy, not really. He thought Jester had made him smile, made him laugh, but every time he reprimanded himself for loving her he knew he'd _let himself_ smile, _let himself_ laugh. Jester didn't make him happy. He allowed himself be happy in spite of himself. It was still hard to get his mind around the idea that she'd want his smile or his love, but if he really loved her back, perhaps he'd let himself enjoy her and forget what he deserved.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is basically a summation of why I love Widojest? For someone's love to encourage you to start loving yourself is just. My jam


End file.
